I exited the document, logged in to my Charades & Sexcapades email, and the most recent email in my box was from PilatesElijah23. It was him. Obviously it was him, and he was emailing me from an address that wasn’t ILWMBF. Was that a sign?
I fell back in the seat. My chest was tight. Oh God. Why was my chest tight? Somehow I knew that clicking on that message would change everything, maybe not for him, but for me and…Christ, it was scary as fuck. My heart was thudding, and I was pretty sure my insides were like a fault line and I was on the verge of a major earthquake.
But there was no chance I wasn’t reading that message. I just hoped it wouldn’t wreck me, like what happened with Richie.
My damn fingers shook as I opened the email.
Anonymous,
Can I start by saying I’m freaking the hell out about this message? I haven’t even said anything yet, and I feel like I might vomit. Animation Guy (he’s whom I’m messaging about) would never let me hear the end of it if he knew I was going crazy here. I guess it’s a good thing you don’t know who we are so you can’t tell him.
I need your advice. My thoughts are all jumbled, and I’ve spent the whole night trying to work through them. Hell, longer, to be honest, so here we are.
My neighbor, he’s Animation Guy. We used to not get along. It was mostly my fault. As he always tells me, I was a little judgy . It was because we’re different, as fucking different as you can be. We don’t want the same things, at all, but despite the fact that I wasn’t always nice to him, he tried to help me with something big. I would never tell him this, but it was really, really nice of him.
Then we started hanging out, and suddenly we were friends. He took a dance class with me, and it was sweet. (I would die if he ever saw I called him sweet!)
It hasn’t been that long. It’s basically a miracle that we’ve become friends so quickly. I went to his house last night. We cooked dinner together. I can’t remember the last time I enjoyed myself that much. He’s cocky as hell, so that’s something else I can’t tell him.
I’ve realized he’s not who I thought he was. He’s kind. Caring. He goes out of his way to help other people. He makes me laugh, and he doesn’t let me get away with anything. He likes animated movies, and I could tell he was embarrassed, which was so cute. Not in the way I teased him about, but in one that made me feel jittery inside. I hate even typing that!
Then…then we almost kissed and, fuck, this is crazy and frightening, but I wanted to. I still want to. And that’s why I need advice. I think… God, I can’t believe I’m admitting this, but I think I might like him? Just a little! I might want to explore it, but we’re still different and we still don’t want the same things.
There are a million reasons why it would be a bad idea, and yet, Anon, I don’t think I care. But I don’t know if he does. I’m losing my mind at the thought of putting myself out there, and I know he is too.
So yeah, that’s it. Any advice would be greatly appreciated.
Sincerely,
Confused
p.s. This message will self-destruct in three seconds.
My cheeks hurt, I was smiling so widely. He was right about so many things. We didn’t fit. This was a bad idea. There were a million reasons why I should run as far and as fast as I could, the most important being that I was scared to open up to him and that he might be in love with someone else.
But I didn’t want to run. I wanted him. I liked him.
I slammed my laptop closed and shoved it into my bag. Edgy, excited nerves snapped and popped inside me. It had nothing to do with the caffeine. It was absolutely ridiculous and embarrassing, but I couldn’t find it in myself to mind; not too much, at least.
I had no idea what I was doing and where it would go, but in that moment, it didn’t matter. He wanted me, and I sure as shit wanted him. The rest of it we would figure out later.
I was only three blocks from our apartment building, and power walking like a motherfucker. Before I knew it, I was in the lobby, and then in the elevator, and then on our floor. I rapped so hard on the door, my knuckles hurt.
It pulled open, and he was standing there, in jeans and a cropped T-shirt that hung off his shoulder.